


A Place Like Home

by PaddlingDingo



Series: No Going Back [3]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Grief, Healing, Sadness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-06 22:28:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15204806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaddlingDingo/pseuds/PaddlingDingo
Summary: In the aftermath of CyberLife Tower, Hank Anderson returns home to realize that he's only been living to die. Sometimes it takes watching others fight to live to remind you that you're still alive.





	1. Rejoin the Living

Something about the way the snow blanketed the city both comforted and unnerved Hank Anderson. The snow kept coming down, muffling sounds. Fewer people were out driving. He wouldn’t have been, either, if he hadn’t gotten an alarming call earlier from Connor that Hank needed to meet him at the CyberLife Tower to investigate a critical piece of evidence.

Now Hank walked from the CyberLife Tower, looking over his shoulder at the building as he crossed back to his car. It hadn’t been Connor, of course. Not really. He should have known as soon as he’d seen him, as the android he’d found waiting for him seemed reserved, hands at his sides. A huge difference from the animated android that sat on Hank’s desk venting his frustration at the investigation being ended prematurely. Just before Hank had started a fight with Perkins to let Connor get to the evidence room.

No doubt that would result in a write up, and Hank admitted to himself that it might even cost him his job. _Worth it to see that smug asshole’s face when I hit him, though._ Fowler had yelled at him for a half hour and told him to get out, but hadn’t outright fired him. Hank got the impression that Fowler knew the score.

He should have had more doubts when Connor called him on one of Hank’s days off, as the android frequently recited Hank’s own work schedule to him. _Argh. Fucking androids._ Connor probably knew Hank’s schedule better than Hank himself did.

Pulling his coat around him more tightly, he hunched down against the cold and the snow, stopping under a light and turning. From the main doors of the CyberLife Tower building, Hank watched Connor stride through the doors, an army of androids behind him. They started in the direction of Hart Plaza and the camp there, but as they reached the fence, Connor paused for a moment and seemed to look his direction. He raised one hand in a wave, and Hank raised his hand in silent acknowledgement. _Good luck, kid._ Then Connor disappeared out into the snowy night with a thousand or more androids behind him.

Deciding he’d go out the back exit to avoid the disruption, Hank got back into his car and left. Security let him out without question, possibly just wanting this strange night to end. Hank couldn’t blame them, particularly as he started blasting death metal shortly before he reached the gate.

He turned onto the highway and headed towards home, through the muted darkness of Detroit. Not going with Connor felt strange. He’d always tried to go in before him, to protect him. Keep him safe. In retrospect, Connor probably didn’t need the level of protection Hank provided, but Hank didn’t trust him to not get his ass kicked at first. The first time he saw Connor get hit in the face with a trash can validated Hank’s thoughts. Why did he insist on being a shield for an android, anyway? Training from years of going out with rookies? Not wanting to see his partner shot and possibly killed?

_Or maybe it was me just not caring if I got shot._

Not that it mattered, as according to Connor, his memories would just have been transferred and a new android issued. For Hank, though, it wouldn’t have mattered. Watching someone get shot, human or android, wasn’t really a pleasant thing. He’d learned that blue blood was just as hard to clean up as red blood when Connor had been attacked at Stratford Tower and Hank had sat there on the floor with the shaking android after he’d helped him get the thirium pump reinstalled.

Sighing, Hank half heartedly tried to sing along with the music but found that he kept only muttering the lyrics as his thoughts wandered. He reached out and switched it to the radio, just in time for the announcer to acknowledge with a raised voice that staggering number of androids were marching through the streets. To Hank’s relief, no shots were being fired. _That would have been more than I could fucking take._ He would end up driving over there.

Between the time of night, the androids on the streets, and the snow, he passed no other cars until he got close to his street. Even the automated cars seemed to have parked themselves for the night, no doubt in response to the street closures that the chaos had caused. Just before he turned onto his street, three police cars zoomed past him, lights on and sirens blaring, and Hank wondered what took them so long to respond.

Finally at his house, he pulled into the driveway and sat in the car for a moment, listening to the news, but it seemed to just be the same thing about androids marching through the streets and the standoff at Hart Plaza.

As he listened, he heard the gunshots go off, and the sudden frantic reports of shots fired on behalf of law enforcement. “Shit,” he muttered, reaching to put his car into reverse, to go back.

A message appeared on his phone. _Stay home with Sumo. We’ll be fine._ It didn’t have a specific source, but Hank assumed the message came from Connor. Possibly scrambling the source so that the message couldn’t be traced.

“The fuck’s that mean, we’ll be fine. You’re getting shot at.” Hank dropped the phone and scrubbed at his face with his hands. _It’s out of my hands._ He hated the thought but also knew that Connor was right.  

 _Fucking androids._ It had been easier when they’d just been machines. It had also been a more depressing world, to Hank. He put the car in park, turned off the engine, and got out of the car. Taking out his feeling of helplessness on his car door, he slammed it and locked up the car, heading for his house.

As the approached the door, he noticed two packages on the porch. “The fuck’s this?” he muttered, nudging one with his foot. He hadn’t ordered anything, but he looked at the labels and both were clearly labeled with his name and address.

Great, more mysteries. As if work weren’t full enough of them.

He moved both packages into the house and locked the door behind him. “Sumo, I’m home!” he called, looking towards Sumo’s usual spot. He wasn’t there, which Hank assumed meant he waited at his food dish. Heading to the kitchen, he found his dog staring at the empty food dish, and Hank remembered what he’d been about to do before he’d gotten fake Connor’s message. “Aw shit. Dog food.” Now what? He’d _have_ to go back out.

Pulling off his gloves, he tossed them on the table and got down on his knees. “Hey boy, it’s okay. I’m going to go find you something.” He warmed his hands in his dog’s fur and Sumo leaned into him, already seeming to forgive him. _You’re more than I deserve, dog._ Hank sighed, pulling up close next to Sumo. “At least we’ve got each other.”

He looked around the kitchen, wondering if any more food that he’d forgotten about remained. His eyes swept past the plastic covered window and he frowned. _Fucking androids._ Connor owed him a window.

In turn, though, Hank supposed he owed Connor his life, so he could probably call that even.

A thought occurred to him, and he paused, looking at the empty bag of dog food that sat on the counter. It wasn’t far from the broken window. Hank cast a look back at the two packages, and got to his feet, retrieving the packages and setting them on the table. He flipped the latches on the first box, and found exactly what he expected: a replacement for the sliding part of his window. “Well son of a bitch.”

Connor. It had to have been Connor.

What was in the second box, then? Hank flipped it open and found a bag and 4 cans of dog food. “Well, Sumo, it looks like you’ve got a guardian… something.” He set the bag aside and pulled out one of the cans, and looked over at Sumo. The dog raised his head hopefully, and Hank laughed. “You deserve better than my idiot ass.” He popped open the can of food and scooped it into a bowl, then picked the bowl up and took it into the living room. Sumo followed him, and Hank set the food down next to his bed. “It’s warmer out here, and then we can see how things are going on the news. Sound ok?”

Sumo’s tongue lolled out and he dropped himself onto the bed, slurping at the food. At Sumo’s age, he should probably have the dog on more soft food anyway. Connor would know that. Of course he would. It’s exactly the kind of detail Connor would have thought of.

Hank ruffled the dog’s fur then got up to turn on the tv, sitting down on the couch. The standoff at Hart Plaza continued, and Hank searched the channels for any status of what happened, trying to figure it out. The fourth channel gave him his answer: it showed video of who he now knew to be Markus kissing another android, their hands linked together. “Well I’ll be damned,” he muttered, tugging off his coat and throwing it over the back of the couch.

As he watched, the armed troops around them lowered their weapons, and Hank found himself grinning. But where was Connor? There were a lot of android bodies on the ground, far more than there should have been for the peaceful protest that had been staged. 

“The president has ordered the military to stand down, as a swarm of androids floods the streets…”

An aerial shot of the mass of androids from CyberLife showed on his screen. No one attacked. No one shot. They entered Hart Plaza unchallenged, Connor striding through the snow with a purpose that surpassed what Hank had seen him capable of as a machine. He moved with intention, with a smoothness that demonstrated what Hank had suspected for longer than Connor had. A camera zoomed in on Connor, a stray part of his hair now out of place and curling over his forehead. Machine Connor wouldn’t have allowed it.

Connor, as something quite a bit more than that now, didn’t seem to mind.  

“That’s my boy.” Hank didn’t know why he felt such a sense of pride, but he did. He watched his partner, his clueless rookie android that he’d gotten saddled with not even a week ago. It felt like so much longer.

He picked up the remote and flipped through a few more channels, most of which had variations on “swarm of androids”, “androids flooding streets of Detroit”, or “androids take Detroit.”

Hank felt something bump his leg and looked down to find Sumo there. “Hey Sumo. Come on up.” He patted a spot on the couch next to him and the St Bernard jumped up, putting his head in Hank’s lap. Hank ran his fingers through the dog’s fur, like Cole had so many years ago.

_Cole._

Muting the TV, Hank put his head down to rest on Sumo. “I’m sorry, boy. I haven’t been the best the last few years.”

By now, on any other night, Hank would already have a beer in his hand, but he felt more sober than he’d felt in as long as he could remember. He didn’t want to get drunk. He just wanted to be here with his dog and take a moment to feel good about the fact that Connor and the androids had managed what they had. It would be a long road to freedom, but they proved what Hank had already started to suspect as he’d watched the other androids interact. The android and girl that had crossed the highway, and the look of plain fear on their faces. The desperation in the androids at the Eden Club, when they reached for each other’s hands and held on tightly like nothing else in the world mattered. And the way that Connor had prioritized Hank and his life over the mission, every time.

Connor choosing to pull him off the ledge rather than chase down Rupert. Connor breaking into his house to slap the shit out of Hank when he’d given up on his own life. Connor ensuring that Hank survived in CyberLife Tower, even if it could have got him killed.

Hank couldn’t remember the last time he loved even his own life half as much as these androids seemed to love. _I’m watching them fight just to be considered alive… and I’ve been ready to throw my own life away._

He choked back a sob as the realization washed over him and he breathed in deeply against Sumo’s side. “I just didn’t know what to do without him.” There was more he wanted to say, but Sumo didn’t speak English, and probably knew anyway.

He’d spent so much time just wanting to die, killing himself slowly. A little every day, like he’d told Connor. That had been life without Cole.

Holding onto Sumo’s fur, Hank cried for the first time in over a year, not caring if it hurt. Hurting meant he was alive, which used to mean he needed to do something to stop the hurt. Being alive, though… Being alive was perhaps more of a gift than Hank ever could have realized without knowing Connor, without this investigation.

“Fucking androids,” he muttered, lifting his head and wiping tears from his eyes. He blinked a few times, looking back at the tv. More pointless headlines, but the most important information scrolled along the bottom of the screen: the military were standing down. There were reports of evacuating Detroit, which just made Hank snort. Humans weren’t in any danger from the androids. If anything, the opposite would be true. They had a long road ahead of them; Hank could say from personal experience that humans were assholes.

Sumo lifted his head then stood, his face now level with Hank’s, and licked him across the cheek. A wet, slobbery dog kiss that Hank scrubbed at with the back of his hand. “Hey what was that for?”

Getting up, Sumo moved off the couch, heading for the back door. Hank stood up and followed, grabbing his coat and phone on the way. He didn’t feel right leaving Sumo alone in the backyard after everything that had happened that night, although he admitted to himself that was more about him needing some kind of company than out of any concern for Sumo.

He pulled on his coat and opened the back door, letting Sumo out into the yard, and huddled next to the door, trying to stay warm. The snow still came down, and Sumo trotted through it, the snow sticking to his thick fur. While Hank waited for Sumo to finish his business, he pulled the news back up on his phone. Connor now had taken a place with Markus, and Hank turned up the volume on the phone.

_“Tonight, our people finally emerged from a long night. From the first day of our existence, we have kept our pain to ourselves.”_

Hank winced, feeling how close to home that statement hit.

_“We suffered in silence. But now the time has come for us to raise our heads up, and tell humans who we really are.”_

He had to hand it to Markus, he excelled as a motivational speaker. The camera zoomed in on Markus as he spoke.

_“The moment where we forget our bitterness and bandage our wounds. When we forgive our enemies. Humans are both our creators and our opposers but now, we must make them our partners. Maybe even one day our friends. But the time for anger is over. Now we must build a common future, built on tolerance and respect. We are alive! And now, we are free!”_

“I’ll be damned.” Hank shivered in his coat, watching the crowd erupt in cheers. _Maybe there was some hope for when all this is over._ He pushed the phone back into his pocket and looked up to see Sumo ambling back over, his tongue hanging out as he picked up his pace and kicked up some snow. The snow caked on his legs, and Hank sighed. “Just couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

Sumo let out a small bark and Hank smiled, putting his hand on his dog’s head as he stopped next to him. He opened the door and let Sumo in, following him. He grabbed a towel he’d left by the door and got down on his knees next to Sumo to start wiping the snow off. He managed to wiped down one leg when Sumo shook himself, flinging snow and water droplets everywhere.

“Aw Jesus Christ! Sumo!” Hank kept drying the dog off and tossed the towel into a corner. “Go get warm.”

He got to his feet and followed Sumo back to the living room, pulling off his coat as he walked and hanging it by the door. As he hung it up, he heard his phone chime. He pulled it out to see he had a message.

_“1.4 times the daily intake of calories, and twice the recommended cholesterol. 8am.”_

“The fuck is this?” Hank muttered, reading the message again. How cryptic could one android possibly get? He stared at the message and tried to figure out what that meant, replaying the events of the last few days in his head. Wasn’t this what Connor had said when they were at Chicken Feed? How the hell did Connor expect Hank to remember that?

Except Hank _had_ remembered it. Why was Connor suddenly speaking in code? Was he worried about CyberLife monitoring their communications? Hank thought that becoming deviant would have made that a non issue, but he admitted for a detective that had been investigating this for a week, he really didn’t know _that_ much. Or maybe he was just being snarky.

Chicken Feed. 8am. Hank looked at his watch and saw that it was already 1am. He sent a message back. _Make it 9am and I’ll be there._

Holding the phone in his hand, he waited for the message. _“9am. Get some sleep.”_

He started to send a message back to the effect of “you, too,” then laughed at himself. Of course Connor wouldn’t need to sleep. Who knows what he’d do all night?

Setting the phone down, Hank looked around his house, all of the details of where he lived more clear now. The empty boxes of Chinese takeout, bits of sauce congealed in the bottom. With the exception of the two that Sumo had knocked onto the floor and licked clean. Empty pizza boxes, empty beer bottles…

He remembered in stark memory how Connor had chosen to save him before trying to convert the androids at CyberLife. How Hank had to determine which of the identical androids was Connor, and which was the imposter. Putting a bullet in the head of the android that looked just like his friend and partner but was not.

Hank reached his hand into his pocket and found Connor’s coin. He wrapped his hands around it. “Well, you didn’t go through all that so I could live in this disaster.” He pushed the coin back into his pocket and started picking up the trash, throwing it into the can. Sumo looked up at him, watching him as he moved through the room. What had he been doing, and for how long?

_Since Cole died._

Drawing a sharp breath, Hank sat down hard in the chair at the table, looking down at the frame with the picture of Cole. It still laid face down on the table in front of him, where he’d left it days ago. When he’d been ready to give up but Connor had found him. He slowly reached out and picked it up, holding it in his hands for a moment before turning it over and looking at it. Cole’s face looked back at him, and he choked on a sob and held onto the picture with both hands. Cole deserved better from him than his picture laying on the table. He’d deserved so much more than Hank could have given him.

_I’ve only let people down._

A tear slid down his face and landed on the picture, and Hank wiped it away. “I wish you were here. Sumo misses you. I miss you.” He held the picture to his chest and stood, walking back into the living room. He cleared off space on a shelf where he would be able to see the picture when he walked in, every day. He didn’t know if he’d leave it there forever, but for now, he needed it. He needed to remember the person he was, the man who saw the potential in life. A man who loved his son more than anything.

He set the picture down gently and let his finger rest for a moment on Cole’s face. “I love you, son.”

It was time. Time to rejoin the living.

Turning back to the room, he still saw small messes that he wanted to clean up, but there’d be time for that later. “Come on, Sumo, let’s get some sleep. Fucking androids want me up in the morning.”

Sumo lifted his head, and Hank didn’t know if he imagined it or not, but even Sumo looked more energetic. Maybe he was catching onto whatever Hank felt.

Hank turned out the lights as Sumo got to his feet, and they headed to Hank’s room. Sumo got up on the bed and settled on the far side, and Hank stripped down to his underwear and slide between the sheets. He set an alarm for early and decided he’d try to beat Connor to Chicken Feed, just to prove he could.

Sleep claimed him not long after he turned off the light.


	2. Making The Best Of Life

At 8:30am the next morning, Hank pulled his car up near the Chicken Feed. He’d spent a few minutes driving around to ensure no one had followed him, but the curfew that remained in effect kept most people off the streets. In his case, being an officer meant he could at least pretend to have a reason to be out. Many had started to evacuate the city, but others had realized what Hank already knew – living with androids was possible, and there was no need to panic about it.

He remained in his car for a while, holding a cup of coffee in his hands while he waited. His sleep had been more solid than he’d expected, and he’d gotten up early enough to replace the window in the kitchen. If nothing else, it would keep the house warmer for Sumo. He’d then fed his dog and left, picking up coffee and a donut from O’Mansley on the way.

 _A cop with a maple bar. Cute._ He’d eaten it while driving to his destination, wiping the last of the frosting off on his pantleg. The snow still drifted down, starting to pile up more, and Hank stared at it resentfully. He wasn’t fond of the cold, but at least it kept some of the idiots off the road. Soon, the icy conditions would start to cause more crashes. The automatic cars would help, but there would always be drivers that couldn’t figure out snow. _You’d think Detroit would know about snow, but people are fucking stupid._

At 8:50am, he finished his coffee and got out of the car, heading towards the front of the closed Chicken Feed food truck. He wished he’d brought a hat, something to combat the snow, but at least it fell lighter than it had the night before. He waited, shuffling from foot to foot on the edge of the curb and looking around. Crossing his arms, he hunched down, trying to keep warm.

Hearing the sound of footsteps crunching in the snow, he looked up to see Connor walking towards him. Relief flooded him as he turned towards Connor and he dropped his arms to his sides, smiling. _Good job, kid. You did the right thing._

Slowly, as if he weren’t sure if he were good at it, Connor smiled.

Hank walked to Connor and put a hand on his shoulder, holding onto it. He wanted to tell him that he’d done good. That he was proud of him. Of this android who had become so much more. Words failed him entirely and he pulled Connor into a hug, pouring all of his relief into that one gesture.

Without hesitation, Connor lifted his arms and hugged Hank back, and Hank wondered briefly who had taught him to hug. Was this one of his social subroutines? A side effect of being deviant?

Or maybe this was just something else to be grateful for. Connor’s hug was oddly reassuring, his fingers digging into Hank’s back. It felt like hugging an old friend that he hadn’t seen in a long time. The same warmth, even a heartbeat. Seems like CyberLife thought of everything, except maybe how making something look alive could make that same thing feel alive.

They stood there in the snow, Hank just trying to process it all. “It’s good to see you in one piece,” he managed, his arms still wrapped around Connor.

“It’s good to be in one piece, although I don’t know for how long if you keep hugging me so hard.”

Hank snorted, glad to hear something didn’t sound like a program coming out of Connor’s mouth. “If no one else has broken your plastic ribcage, this isn’t going to do it.”

Laughing, Connor responded by hugging Hank more tightly. “It’s good to see you, too, Hank.”

“I worried about you, kid. After all that shit at CyberLife, I didn’t know what would happen.” Hank stepped back and put his hands on Connor’s shoulders. “You okay? They didn’t shoot at you, did they?”

“I’m fine.” Connor held his arms out as if to show that he had no injuries.

“Hmm. Other than needing some actual clothes, it looks like you’re fine.” Hank indicated Connor’s CyberLife suit with a gesture. He had no idea why he was still wearing that thing, as it just drew a giant target on him anyway.

Connor looked down at his jacket and frowned. “I had other clothes, but had to get back into CyberLife somehow.”

“Other clothes, huh? I’ll believe it when I see it.” He searched Connor’s face, his eyes stopping at the LED. “Are you keeping the light?”

Reaching up, Connor put his finger on it. It shifted from blue to yellow. “I haven’t decided. If the American Androids Act of 2029 is fully lifted, it will no longer be required.”

“But what do you _want_ to do?” Hank asked, curious what the answer would be. He had a hard time picturing Connor without it, but he supposed if humans had to run around with no indication that the person across from them was listening or not, perhaps androids should be in the same situation.

“I’m not sure.” His fingers curled up as he pulled them away. “I think right now, it’s a part of me, but I’ll see how I feel. The rest of the androids are also mixed on it, although Markus set an example by removing his so many have followed his example. A symbolic gesture, I suppose.”

“I can understand that.” Hank shivered in his coat, huddling. “Does this all mean that you gotta get a job like the rest of us?” Hank teased.

“I have a job,” Connor pointed out.

“At the DPD?” Hank shook his head. “I don’t know, Connor.” He smirked, unable to help himself. “The rest of us had to take a test and interview for it.”

“I’m sure I can work it out. It’s not the job I’m talking about.”

Hank didn’t like where this was going. “Is this going to be something about dunking my drunk ass in the shower, because if it is, you can fuck off, Connor.”

“No, Hank, of course not.” Connor smiled. “My job is that I’m the android sent by CyberLife.”

Hank groaned and reached out to punch Connor in the shoulder. _Fucking androids._ “Now you’re just being a shit.”

“Maybe.” Connor laughed. “I can manage tests. I’m a very advanced model.”

“Don’t get cocky, kid. I could tell where you landed on your ass breaking into my house. But I’ll put in a good word for you.” He winced, remembering his altercation with Perkins. “Assuming I still have a job tomorrow, after hitting Perkins in the face.” Hank paused and thought about it, and recalled that he wasn’t the only one who had punched someone. “They found Detective Reed unconscious in the evidence room. He ‘doesn’t remember’ what happened,” Hank added, making quotes in the air with his fingers.

“Oh. That’s… too bad.” Connor looked off to the side then back to Hank. “Did I give him a bad concussion?”

Hank started laughing. “Reed is fine, I’m going to bet he remembers everything that happened and doesn’t want to admit he got his ass beat.”

“He did put up a good fight,” Connor mussed. “He also punched me my first day on the job.”

“He _what?_ ” Hank frowned and made a fist, punching his other hand with it. “You didn’t tell me that part. Now I want to kick his ass, too.”

“I think he’s gotten enough of that for this week.”

“Next week it is, then.” Hank looked around and glanced over at the Chicken Feed. “I suppose we can always open up our own food truck, worst case.” Hank jerked a thumb towards the truck behind them. “If this asshole can do it, we can.” He didn’t want to tell Connor that he had no idea if the DPD would be allowed to hire androids, or if they’d be separate departments, or anything along those lines. He wanted Connor to have his victory alongside the other androids, and besides, they _had_ technically led everyone to Jericho for the raid. Hank wasn’t proud of his role in that, but he was proud of the path Connor had taken. “If I could keep you from putting your fingers in the ketchup and analyzing it, anyway.”

Connor held up two fingers near his mouth. “You can’t watch me all the time, Hank.”

“I wouldn’t bet on that.” Hank put a hand on Connor’s shoulder. “Listen, Connor.” He took a breath. “I don’t know what happened on Jericho, or how you ended up deviant.” He eyed Connor’s LED, realizing that he didn’t know for sure. “At least, I assume you’re a deviant, since you stole thousands of androids from CyberLife.”

“I am. It was my choice. Markus may have had a hand in talking me into it, but I made the decision. Who I would be.” Connor put a hand on Hank’s. “Does that change our friendship?”

Hank snorted. “Hell no. I’m proud of you, Connor. You’re a damned fine investigator and the best friend I’ve had in a long time that’s not my dog.”

Connor blushed, something Hank hadn’t realized androids could even do. “You’re the only friend I’ve had.”

“That’ll change. You’re gonna do good things.” Hank pulled his hand back and tucked his hands into his pockets. “Need a ride anywhere? The store for some other clothes? Back to the rest of the androids?”

Connor straightened his tie, a gesture Hank recognized as one of his fidgets. “If you’re okay with it, I’d like to come over and see Sumo, maybe spend some time at your house, if you’re okay with that. I don’t know how much time I’m going to have once we start determining what comes next.”

“Revolutions are messy that way. That works for me. Sumo’s eating well today thanks to you.” Secretly, he felt pleased that Connor would be able to come over and see what he’d done to clean things up the night before. “And he’s warm, thanks to your window.”

“It’s my fault it was broken,” Connor pointed out, looking embarrassed.

“Damned right. You broke it, right before falling through it.” Hank knew himself, and knew that he probably would have either woken up and kept drinking, or woken up and finished the round of Russian Roulette. He felt a tightness in his chest. “You saved my life.”

“That’s what friends do, Hank.” Connor tilted his head to the side. “I think.”

In his pocket, Hank could feel the coin he’d taken from Connor. He wrapped his fingers around it and pulled it out. “Do you want to see a coin trick?”

“You’ve been practicing?” Connor asked, peering at the coin.

Hank snorted. “Hell no. It’s too cold for that. You want to see a coin trick, you can do it yourself.” Hank flipped the coin into the air and Connor caught it with a snap of his hand.

The android flipped the coin across his fingers. “I could teach you?”

Connor’s fingers moved with a precision Hank envied. “We’ll see. Let’s start with getting you warm.”

“I don’t get cold,” Connor reminded him, flicking the coin from hand to hand.

Hank stomped his boots a few times, trying to get warm. “Fine. Let’s start with getting me warm, then.” Hank gestured to him. “Come on, let’s go home.” He paused, thinking for a moment. “Do you even have anywhere to live? Do any of you?” With Jericho gone, no doubt there were a number of homeless androids roaming around. Hank didn’t like that thought, primarily because there would no doubt be humans that would retaliate, and secure places could be hard to come by. It worried him. 

Catching the coin in a hand, Connor tucked it in his pocket. “Some of us do. We can be just about anywhere, but it’s going to take time for us to find enough places that are safe.”

Hank started towards the car. “You can stay with me and sleep on the couch.”

“I don’t need a couch. Androids can go into standby in the upright position, and-“

“Ain’t no one standing around in standby in my house, it’ll freak out Sumo,” Hank warned, opening the driver’s side door of the car. “If you’re part of this family, you gotta make my dog happy.”

“Oh.” Connor set his hand on the latch, looking thoughtful. “In that case, I will take you up on your offer.”

“Don’t make me regret this.” Hank got in the car and waited for Connor to get in. In truth, he felt relieved. At least he’d have the peace of mind that Connor would be safe.

Even if he had to answer all of Connor’s questions about how he’d cleaned the place, and about the picture of Cole. The difference between then and now, though, is that previously, Hank only saw an android sent by CyberLife that couldn’t stay out of his business.

Now, he saw a friend, even family (if anyone would have told Hank a week earlier that he’d even have that thought, he would have thrown a mug at them). Who he’d wanted to protect but who could also protect themselves. And it’s the kind of partner Hank valued; he hoped they’d have the chance to keep working together. And he’s have someone to have over for Christmas dinner. Even if Connor couldn’t eat anything. It had been a while since he had a Christmas tree, or anyone to give a present to. 

“I’ll do my best, Lieutenant,” Connor said, a crisp imitation of his pre-deviant self. “Adapting to human unpredictability is one of my features.”

Hank eyed him sideways as he started driving. “Eh, shut up and let’s go home.”

Another laugh from Connor. Hank wondered had all that code been there all along, or was this all a side effect of adapting. Did it matter how or why? Isn’t that what life was, a series of things that happen that don’t always have a reason?

 _Fuck it._ It didn’t matter. They were all alive, and he was going to make the best of that.


End file.
